Irony
by XxXxDarkVampirexXxX
Summary: Harry has been speaking, rather, writing to the Dark Lord secretly, and absolutely no one knows. Slash fic!


**Yo. I was taking requests, but decided to stop because I can't handle the stress of it. Just check out my profile for details if you're curious or care.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

It was a dark and gloomy day in London, like most days had been that summer. Harry, who had been brought to Order Headquarters just days before his seventeenth birthday, was seated in the basement kitchen, along with several other members.

Another strategy meeting had just ended, most volunteers, luckily, having already left. The place really wasn't big enough to house all of them, as Harry had found out the hard way.

The usual crowd was still around though: all the Weasleys, save Percy, Hermione, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Remus, Kingsley, and Tonks. All of them were seated around the table as Mrs Weasley bustled around, preparing dinner.

Harry, who was sitting between Fred and George, was busy writing in his journal. Everyone had gotten used to it by now, seeing as he'd been doing it for a couple of years now. Though most had been surprised when he had suddenly begun doing this after the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione had explained that many Muggles wrote their daily experiences down as a form of therapy. After hearing that, they had immediately stopped questioning it. Especially after they considered what he had just gone through.

Harry hardly went anywhere without the dark, green journal now, and wrote in it quite a bit. It had a few spells on it too, so if anyone touched it without his permission, they would end up being hit with some rather nasty hexes.

Of course, because of this, no one had any way of knowing that Harry wasn't writing about what he'd had for breakfast, or that he'd seen a demonic clown cross the street, or what mark Snape had given him on his last essay...okay, maybe he occasionally mentioned that last one. In fact, Harry wasn't writing to _himself_ at all.

 _'Dumbledore just said your confidence will cause you to make mistakes',_ he wrote down in emerald green ink.

And then a sentence suddenly appeared below his own, written in crimson ink, and in a hand entirely different than his own. The elegantly formed letters looked nothing like his near 'chicken scratch', as Snape had so nicely put it one day.

 **'The old fool is deluding himself if he truly believes that Lord Voldemort is foolish enough to make mistakes.'**

Harry shook his head inwardly, having expected that response. It was so typical of him. _'Still under that bloody oath, but you might want to speak to Pourvahidi, who may or may not be involved with something that'll piss you off.'_

Mrs Weasley suddenly called for Ginny and Hermione, momentarily distracting Harry. When he looked back down though, he saw that Voldemort had already replied.

 **'I shall be sure to look into it. What else are the Chickens saying?'**

 _'They fell for the raid trap, and are trying to figure out who to send.'_

 **'Have you any names?'**

 _'Nothing substantial. You know Dumblefuck's bound to change his mind. He'll decide, have a lemon drop, then change everything.'_

 **'True, of course.'**

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley. Smells great!"

The woman beamed, before continuing on. Harry discretely nudged the twins on either side of him. Both gave him a minute nod, flicked their wands beneath the table, and then made an odd gesture with their hands.

Seeing this, Harry nodded, refocusing on his journal. _'What do you know? Guess what was in my food? Liquid Imperius. Again.'_

 **'When will they learn?'** Voldemort was probably shaking his head in exasperation right about now.

This wasn't the first time Harry's food or drink had been spiked with something. It actually happened quite frequently. So frequently, that he had been ashamed at how long it had taken him to realize it was happening.

"Cub."

Harry blinked and looked up at his de facto uncle, and the only parental figure he really had left. "Sorry, Moony." He quickly scribbled down one last thing. _'Sorry, but I have to go. You know how Remus gets if I write during mealtimes.'_

 **'Go eat, Harry. We can continue once you've finished.'**

 _'Okay.'_ And with that, the teen put the journal away, settling down to eat his now untainted food, which had the werewolf smiling approvingly.

Naturally, the moment dinner was finished, Harry brought the journal back out. A few people sort of just shook their heads, but no one actually mentioned it.

"Oh, Albus, at least stay for desert!" called Mrs Weasley.

 _'Dumbledore's leaving. And the others are talking about you again.'_

 **'Good. Has Severus left yet? What are the fools saying now?'**

 _'No, Snape's still here for some reason. Which is weird cause he's generally the first to leave after a meeting. He even stayed for dinner! Did you put him up to this? And Tonks just called you stupid. Oh, but Hermione reminded her that you set a record for most OWLs and NEWTs, so that sorta shut her up.'_

 **'I did not instruct Severus to remain behind, no. A Muggleborn showing up a Half-Blood? Why does this no longer surprise me?'**

 _'Um, cause it's Hermione?'_

 **'Yes, that would be why.'**

"Pfft, the wanker's probably still a virgin too!" exclaimed Ron suddenly, drawing Harry's attention to him. "I mean, who in their right mind would sleep with _that_?" He laughed. "He probably has to wank every night cause he can't get anything else!"

"Ronald!"

"Weasley!"

Fred and George exchanged a glance. "How is that any different from you, little brother?" they questioned together, identical smirks on their faces.

As expected, barely a second passed before Ron was as red as a tomato. Harry, along with many others, snickered, and Mrs Weasley reprimanded the twins.

 **'Harry?'**

 _'Sorry, I got distracted by something Ron just said.'_

 **'What did the idiot say this time?'**

Harry bit back a smirk as he replied. _'He called you a wanker, and insinuated that because you're "ugly", no one would want to have sex with you, and, because of that, you're still a virgin.'_

 **'Oh, Kitten, you and I both know just how wrong those statements are. I would rather like seeing Weasley's face if you told your dear "best friend" just how much you enjoy being defiled by me.'**

Harry tried not to flush, knowing it would be rather difficult to explain away if someone noticed. Not to mention the twins would tease him mercilessly.

 **'Oh dear. Have I managed to get you all worked up, Kitten?'**

 _'Nope, not at all!'_ He lied immediately. He then felt amusement flood their link, and was sure he knew _exactly_ what his Dark Lord was thinking.

"You alright there, mate?"

Green eyes blinked as Harry looked up at the one who had spoken. "I'm fine, Ron. Why do you ask?"

The redhead shrugged. "You just had a really weird look on your face." Then his eyes widened. "Was-was it You-Know-Who?" he asked in a whisper, as if worried Voldemort would hear him.

Harry smiled. "It's nothing, Ron. Don't worry about it." He grinned inwardly when he saw the Dark Lord's newest words.

 **'If only he knew the truth, hmm, Kitten?'**

 _'If only they all knew...'_

* * *

 **That's that. I might write a multi chap version of this, because I enjoy the idea. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


End file.
